


Littering the Topsoil

by shoemaster



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 18:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17492663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoemaster/pseuds/shoemaster
Summary: “TheAir Force? Are you fucking kidding me?”





	Littering the Topsoil

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is going to be jossed in less than 48 hours, but I had to.
> 
> A million thanks to beatperfume for letting me spam her with texts through the whole pilot and nudging this into existence and angelsaves for the beta.
> 
> Title from Bleed American by Jimmy Eat World because why not ride that nostalgia wave the whole way.

Alex has taken to counting down his last three days of school by class periods. Three more today, six tomorrow, and six the day after that, and technically, three of them are going to be spent on graduation practice, because apparently high school diplomas don’t include the ability to walk in a line or walk across a stage without _practice_. The lunch period would normally be a welcome break, but now it just feels like one more thing in the way.

“What the fuck is this?”

Alex doesn’t have time to react before he’s dragged into Mr. Bluestone’s empty history classroom. 

Michael has shoved the senior edition of the student newspaper against Alex’s chest. “Um?”

He’s not sure what to say; he and Michael don’t normally talk at school. Michael barely even looks at him on campus.

“The _Air Force_? Are you fucking kidding me?”

And then Alex sees, it’s not the whole newspaper, it’s just the map of where all the graduating seniors are going off to next year, and he knows his name is listed right next to Madeline Lopez for the Air Force Academy.

“What?” Michael continues, not seeming to care that Alex still hasn’t really said anything. “You think if you go out there and get yourself killed trying to Be All You Can Be, it’ll make Daddy proud?”

“That’s the Army,” Alex says, anger finally loosening his tongue. “What am I supposed to do, fuck around Roswell for the rest of my life like you?”

“What’s the matter, was it going to be too easy to get your cock sucked at CalTech so you had to go and find somewhere it would be a _challenge_?”

Alex tries not to flinch. “Just because I have goals -”

“No you don’t,” Michael spits. “Your father has them for you.”

“Don’t pretend like you care,” he says wearily. 

They’ve spent the last year hooking up, and this is probably the longest conversation Alex has ever had with Michael, including the first time Michael cornered him behind the Crashdown and nearly had Alex pissing himself before he realized Michael was putting the moves on him. Even when he comes by Alex’s place on weekends when his father’s off running training seminars in Colorado, it’s mostly just fucking around and maybe eating a little. 

Hell, the last time Alex tried talking to Michael at school had been October. It was the Monday after one of those weekends, where they both took it as a challenge to see how many times they could come before having to break for food or sleep. Alex had woken up from a nap to find Michael doodling on his AP Physics homework. When he looked at it that night, after Michael left, he realized it wasn’t doodles, it was _the answers_. He’d tried asking Michael about it - why wasn’t he in any of the advanced classes, didn’t the teachers know how smart he was? Michael just looked disgusted and ignored him to sit with Max and Isobel as always.

He didn’t bother after that.

“Just because I don’t want you to die doing something stupid, surrounded by a bunch of fucking jarheads.”

Alex doesn’t rise to the bait this time. He just stares at Michael, daring him to say something real. To give a reason for acting like he had or even wanted a voice in Alex’s life.

When Michael yanks him in for a kiss, instead, Alex is relieved and disappointed all at once. He wouldn’t have known what to say if Michael chose door number two. And this is familiar, hard and punishing, because they’re not really the type for the soft touch, not unless they’ve worn themselves out. Even then, Alex isn’t sure he could call it tender. On a good day, he might think of it as fond or friendly.

This is neither of those things, and Alex can feel it as Michael shoves him back against Bluestone’s desk, a mug of pens scattering across the surface. Alex grabs at Michael’s hair, his fingers twisting in the curls, until Michael lets out a little gasp.

“There’s that aggressiveness the drill sergeants will be looking for,” Michael sneers before diving back in to bite at Alex’s bottom lip.

The hell of it is, Alex has wanted to fly for as long as he can remember. Longer than he can remember wanting to kiss pretty blond-haired Trey on the school grounds, even when Maria was the one who caught him behind the swings. Half the point of this thing with Michael was that he _wouldn’t_ care when it ended after graduation. That was why Alex turned down Colin’s awkward suggestions of study dates in favor of screwing around with someone who seemed to forget Alex existed half the time.

The other half, well.

Michael’s body is solid against his, despite how lean he looks, and Alex can feel how hard he is, helpless to stop himself from grinding against Michael’s erection with his own. He tries not to whimper when Michael pulls away, but his hand quickly moves in, fumbling with Alex’s belt.

Fuck, anyone could walk into the room at any second -

Alex shoves Michael away. “Is that your big plan, then? Get me caught in a compromising position and fuck over all my plans? Just because you want to rage against the machine your whole fucking life doesn’t mean all of us do.”

Michael looks shocked, like he didn’t expect Alex to figure it out. 

“I know this doesn’t mean anything, but I never thought you’d be that willing to ruin _my_ life just because you hate yours,” Alex grits out, snatching his backpack off the floor. He even grabs the poor ragged newspaper, because he’s got to use something to hide his erection in the hall until the anger completely wipes out his arousal.

Alex is grateful when no one pays any attention to him as he reenters the crowded hallway; he doesn’t know what he’d say if someone asked him to sign their yearbook right now.

It’s not like he expects Michael to chase after him, but can’t help the twinge of disappointment when he doesn’t.

It’s a long summer before he heads to Colorado Springs, and Alex spends the whole time with a looming sense of dread, just waiting for Michael to get pissed enough to spill.

That feeling lasts for the next four years.


End file.
